In the Garden
by Carolare Scarletus
Summary: "Mommy favorite?" Draco slowly looked at his son, deciding whether he could tell him. "All of them." Not a single flower, fern, bush, or vine did not receive her tender, undying love; the garden missed their mistress of vegetation just as much as her knights did. "What are you doing in mommy's garden?" A lovely, sweet voice called behind them. Romance/angst/family- Dramione


I would like to dedicate this one-shot to a very enchanting woman by the name of Fatima, or as known as her alias- . I have been planning this for two weeks, but the idea of it didn't fully come into fruition until last week. As always, I wanted to make absolutely sure that it met expectations and that it was good. I hope she as well as anyone else who comes across it enjoys it =) If anyone hasn't already done so, please go check out her page. She is the author of How I Met Your Mother, a Harry Potter spin-off the comedy show. I implore you to check that out; she has so much planned for it that even I am astounded by its depth and awesomeness. If y'all like the show, you will like the spin-off of it. =) I cannot guarantee it, but I can definitely vouch for it! I know I get uber excited when new chapters are published. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

^-^ Oh, Merlin. I knew I was going to Ramble!  
Anyway, this particular one-shot is based off the poem The Sensitive Plant. It's extremely enchanting and highly addictive. I choose the poem because, well, of the story it tells within it's lines- which is the story that came to me after reading the poem. I wanted to write this in a slightly different way, but my intention was to never make it into anything longer than a one-shot. I am so terribly sorry if anyone things otherwise. I promised Fatima hot, shameless sex, but I couldn't put that in there. I came to realize hot sex didn't quite fit with the theme. I'm sorry girl! Maybe in my next smut .

Speaking of my next one-shot, the idea came to me to do another one of these 'poem' inspired one-shots. Only problem is, the story could very well be more than a one-shot, but definitely no more than a three-shot. Do they even exist? I don't know ._.

Anyway! Y'all know me, ugh -.-

As always, enjoy.

P.S: If anyone can tell me the specific lines in the poem in part two where it talks about the woman ( or spring) specifically and what she does, I will take it upon myself to do a Dramione request, or any request of your choosing. Keep in mind I will come back and check the reviews within a week, and the first person to guess which lines will 'win?' I've never done this before, but it makes me so happy to know that someone has read something I recommended =) There are three lines (#-#) I have written down. Any other lines you find will not count because I forgot to write them down ._.

 **Standard Disclaimer Applies: I do not own Harry Potter**

* * *

X-x-X

 _Whether that Lady's gentle mind,_

 _No longer with the form combined_

 _Which scattered love, as stars do light,_

 _Found sadness, where it left delight._

 _Where nothing is, but all things seem,_

 _And we the shadows of the dream_

 _-The Sensitive Plant_

 _X-x-X_

* * *

Rough winds blissfully shook the darling buds of late June. Contagious banter circulated like a sweet fragrance around the open air of the Manor Garden, spreading across the vast, green landscape in a furry of laughter and delight. Guests continued to arrive for the celebration that took place once a year by a reluctant and equally effete man who stood on the fringes and away from the group. A young boy with neat, blond hair stood next to him, his gaze fixated on something that the man could only make pitiful guesses as to what elicited such a reaction from his son. A gleam of hopefulness and wonder lit up in his pale, blue eyes. A smile spread across his face. There, he saw the forbidding image that plagued his father's mind during the restless nights of slumber. A beautiful manifestation of spring herself, she sent a playful, yet daring smile his way. Like the curious creature that he was, he fell devastatingly hard for her trickery.

Before he could stop him, he had dashed away from him in a blur of black and white with incredible speed. He couldn't allow him to trespass the bordering landscape that separated the open landscape of their backyard, and the treacherous labyrinth of the maze beyond. He had warned him not to go in there, not to set feet in the deceiving ruins of his heart. But, he couldn't stop from curiosity to plant itself in his son's own heart. He, too, wanted to chase the valiant mistress of the garden that resided there. Of all days, though. Why of all days did she conjure herself today? *Has she not have enough fun in the previous days leading up to this damn day to fill her insatiable needs for fun and trickery? The man desperately wanted to know, allowing what he swore off like some liquor to seep through his skin and fill his veins like running water. An adrenaline rush as the one she was giving him could not be surpassed; he would drink from the blasted nectar of her flower once more. This, like all times that he had promised himself, would be the last time. A promise such as that was always broken and short-lived. He would engage in the ridiculous notion of enjoyment just to see the mistress smile once more.

He followed obediently behind his son, as to not warrant the unrestrained wrath of the woman that had stolen both their hearts and warmed their souls. His son was just as fond of her as he had been when he first gazed upon her unrivaled beauty. The flowers themselves awoke from their temporary slumber, raising their tiny heads in awe as the woman as she caressed the flourishing fields in which the peacefully slept. The woman continued to taunt and tease, flashing a brilliant, radiant smile behind her. She was much too fast for the little boy who ran diligently behind her, desperate and equally determined to finally catch her. A sweet vagary of the boy's heart that had still failed to be accomplished. His son, like himself, would very much like to cultivate the beautiful goddess of spring and make it his own. Though, her nomadic dwelling remained within the green hedges of their Manor, the man couldn't help feel a pinch of remorse for wanting something as pure and graceful as she. It was a sin to want her, but he could not help the feeling that spread so easily throughout his damaged body; she was his sanctum and repentance.

They frocked into the arms of the sinuous paths of moss and ferns. Her feet must have pitied the very ground it treaded upon. Her breaths came in desperate pants as the wind whipped wildly around her, alerting everything that she passed of her mystic presence. He doubted that the flowers have ever seen such a beautiful, erotic display. Never had the felt the caressing touches of her slender fingers, her gentle, soothing voice, or seen the spirit of her unadulterated soul. The woman was as dear as to him as it was to the garden in which they played; with a warming smile, she sent sprinkles of water to fall pleasantly around them, called to Apollo so he could provide them the radiant glow of the setting sun. The buds of her love turned upwards as if to pay respect to the deity that bestowed life to them. Tenderly like a mother of nature would, she kissed her children before she took flight once more.

Oh, how he wished she would stop her folderol and come back to their arms!

The man trailed effetely behind the pair, watching as the brilliant stream of Apollo's chariot slowly dipped below the high, jade green hedgerows. He wondered briefly if she knew the parlous of venturing well beyond the protective barricade of the manor. Did she know, or was she allowing herself to believe that her garden could provide the safety and sanctuary that she deserved? Surely, she would remember? When her beautiful, flawless skin was marred by the unwavering touches of the past, how could she continue as if nothing bad had happened? Halting for a moment, a terrible memory of the unfortunate day swept over him. Of all days, why today? Why did he have to be subject to the treacherous hands of his memories as death taunted and toyed with him?

The damn deity of death knew just how to push his buttons; he knew that he had almost lost her the first time he reared his skeletal head. As quick as an intake of air, he could have snatched her, forever sealing some ancient agreement. As before, it had not been her time. He had saved her, even without her knowledge, he had come to her rescue and slain the monstrous beast.

It had not been the first time death threatened to take her, and it certainly seemed it wouldn't be the last, either. After that terrible night, he vowed he would spend the rest of his life protecting the one thing that gave him the light of day. She was his light, his redemption. Without her- Gods, there would be no life or happiness. The second time had been during the earlier years of their engagement. It had been a trailing time and one he would never forget. It was the reason that she could not give blossom to another bud. He could not risk almost losing her again.

Horrid flashbacks began to rush back to him. He stopped and looked around. The brilliant beam of the sun was slowly dying. The flowers and vegetation around him sensed that something was horribly amiss. Their maiden was nowhere to be found.

A small tug on his sleeve alerted his attention, bringing him out of reverie long enough to address his son.

"Did you find her?"

He shook his head," No." His pleading eyes touched his very soul.

Looking around, he set out his magic and tried to locate the spring maiden. When he could not find her, he became frantic, analyzing the quick change in vicissitude that had brought them both to lose her once again.

The little boy's eyes brimmed with tears. "L-lost her."

"It's alright, son. We'll find her again." He sounded desperate. He wanted to find her so she could restore order in both their hearts. But, where could she have gone?

The thought hit him like a giant cataclysmic wave. Their sweet, sweet little angel had been very elusive and unclear with her intentions. She knew that the party was unbearably boring for them both; hadn't she sensed that, they wouldn't be in the middle of the garden, lost beyond rational belief, and troubled by the thought that they would never find her again. He knew he was fastidious, but he didn't allow that terrible trait to get in the way of their maiden to have her delightful fun.

"Mommy." Another tug on his already weakened and distraught heart. "Garden."

"I know." Draco told him, guiltily. He felt so damn guilty for allowing his memories to invade his mind. He had allowed his son to lose track of her.

"Mommy here." He knew the formidable truth. Draco knew she was somewhere in the garden, but where?

"She is, son." His breath hitched painfully in his throat. He could not allow the tears of his sorrow to come. Not now, probably not ever. Draco would not express such sorrow in front his son, the only extension of his love that he physically had.

He missed her so much. Not a single day went by when he didn't think of her, didn't cry because of her absence. How long has it been since he last saw her, last gazed shamefully upon her beauty? Last touched her, caressed her, told her he loved her? What was the woman doing, he wondered? Knowing her as well as he did, she would be ensconced in some chair, sitting by the window. Would it be raining? Oh, how she loved the rain! His damn mind could not bear the wait of remembering the woman that he loved.

"Mommy's flowers." The little boy said bitterly, running to grab one of the many flowers that she planted throughout her time at the Manor. "Pretty."

"Yes," he said, painfully expressing his approval through clenched teeth," they are."

"Mommy favbrite?"

Draco slowly looked at his son, deciding whether or not he could tell him. "All of them."

There was not a single flower, fern, bush, or vine did not receive her tender, undying love. The garden missed their mistress of vegetation just as much as her knights did.

"What are you doing in mommy's garden?" A lovely, sweet voice called behind them.

The matriarch of their hearts and home arrived on a chariot of Sapphire Indigo Clematises, golden leaves and moss, the old skin of sleeping trees left in her wake. Her fingers were knitted elegantly in front of her, enchantingly deep brown eyes stared at him as a smile slowly made its way across her flawless, young face. Soft ringlets of brown curls cascaded down her shoulders, contrasting beautifully with the light blue dress she procured just for the occasion. The woman epitomized the very essence of nature, a theme that she had picked especially for the evening despite the nature of the season in which they were rightfully in. Her walk was graceful, her posture as strong as a trees that surrounded her. She strolled over to them, careful not to overwork herself. Her smile stretched, and tears trailed down her cheeks.

Standing with a smile and just as gorgeous and untampered was Draco's wife.

Instantly, his son ran into the arms of the woman that they had spent the better part of an hour trying to capture. He hugged her with paean as her slender arms wound around his tiny frame. She planted soft kisses on his cheek, hair, temple, and anywhere else her lips could reach. She effusively expressed the multitude of her love and adoration before standing up, bringing her along with her. They twirled around, giggling as the cool, night air caressed their exposed skin. She stopped twirling, too dizzy to continue. With a warm smile, she pecked her son's cheek before trailing her gaze to the man in front of her.

She smiled at her husband with longing. "I take that you are quite sedated?"

He stared at her precariously, not quite believing that his wife was standing directly in front of him. His traitorous heart betrayed him as he swept her into an all-consuming kiss and embrace. She returned it with equal fever, never wanting this reunion between them to end. Her lips moved sensually against his as their little one moved irritably in her arms.

"No!" the little boy insisted. "My mommy!"

"I am." Hermione laughed adoringly. "But, can't you share?"

"No," he said firmly, clinging onto her, trying to get as much as her love as he could. "Mine." He mumbled sadly into the crook of her neck. "Missed mommy."

She ran her hand up and down his back soothingly. "I know, sweetheart." Tear trailed down her cheek solemnly. "I know. I missed you _so_ much, Scorpius." Hermione smiled sadly at her husband. "I missed you _both_ so _very_ much."

Draco felt an unbearable pinch clench around his heart.

One month without her had drove them both to desperation. It was hard on a child not to have their mother around, and even more so for a father to tell them that their mommy wouldn't be back until she was well again.

Her sudden illness had given them both quite a scare, one that he hoped would mark the end of the ailments that seemed to present itself when everything in their lived were going perfect. A little too perfect he regrettably admitted. When things were going well for them, something always seemed to get in their way and ruin whatever happiness they were able to obtain.

Hermione had been in such a deplorable state, not since the birth of their son. Even before then, she had been plagued with illness as the string of her life was so violently played and tampered with. One wrong tug, and the string of her existence could have snapped. He had been so close to losing not only his wife, but his son as well. Even after his birth, she was thrusted into the uncertain reigns of life, floating between the realm where she belonged, and the realm where all light never reached. It took her weeks to recover, in addition to the several months to get her back into her previous, spontaneous and jubilant state. To think that his wife wanted to try for another sent waves upon waves of anger and resentment to flow through his body. Had she no moral standing? Was she not scared? He knew with all his being that having another child was her absolute and only withstanding wish.

She had not expressed such determination and insistence to any other matter that he could think of during their time as a couple and husband and wife. She had never been a weak, infertile woman; she had lived through one of the greatest wars ever known to the Wizarding and Muggle war. She was the brains behind the bronzed soldiers of war. She had been the one to see reason, to change his views, to seek help, and ultimately find unwarranted acceptance from those who used to despise him. Hermione was a very capable woman; it was he who had the problem finding courage and strength. Draco could not bear if he lost her; he couldn't raise two children that shared both their characteristics, their mannerisms, and subtle facial features, let alone face the day without her by his side. It would destroy him if he lost her.

Draco took a tentative step towards her and was immediately welcomed by his wife.

"I missed you so much," he admitted, breaking right then and there. Fresh tears of his own trailed down his cheeks, staining them once more with pain, agony, and absolute love and relief. "You have no idea how hard it's been for us. Not having you by our side. Hermione-" he cupped her cheeks adoringly, ignoring the slight protests of their son so he could plant a chaste, yet demanding and urgent kiss upon her lips. One that meant a promise of a long awaited reunion once the sun finally set and their disagreeable guests left. He promised her an endless night of passion and an entire month's worth of unrequited love that they couldn't give to each other. "You're never leaving us. Never again. You must make someone else take your place during those trips. You can't leave us again."

She nodded her head. "Yes." Hermione agreed straight away. The month apart had taken such a toll on her as well. Hesitantly, she ran her hand through her son's hair before catching her husband's eye. "Never." She recuperated. "Never again." She promised once more.

Satisfied, Draco brought both his son and wife into a tight hug, forever binding them together once again. This reunion was short-lived, however. Somehow, their guests noticed the birthday boy's presence and set out a search party to look for him and his son. His nanny had gone into a frantic state of delirium when she couldn't locate the young master, only to find him in the arms of his mother and father. She had let them be until the anxious group of celebrators demanded their attention and attendance. With one last promising kiss, Draco escorted his wife and son back to the party, not in dread, but in absolute content that he had finally found his love once again.

* * *

"He missed you," Draco told her as he watched his wife tuck in their son after a long day of celebration. The last remaining guests had finally Floo'd home, much to the delight of Draco. The Potter's were a very sociable family and insisted in engaging them in conversation and merriment into the late hours of the night. Despite his wife's encouragement, he couldn't bring himself to care one way or another about the gifts he received, the congratulations of another well-earned year, and definitely the endless conversations. All he could think about was his son and wife. "More than you'll ever know."

"Oh, I know."

Hermione smiled down at the little boy as he tried to curl more closely into her side. Unfortunately, as much as she would like to continue to watch her son sleep and perhaps join him, she had other things to attend to. Her husband was growing restless with impatience, but he wouldn't dare disturb the sacred duty of a mother. As soon as she gently released her son's hold on her, she casted a Body charm that would allow him to feel her presence while he slept. She gazed at him sadly before she felt the strong arms of her husband wound around her waist.

She still wore the gown from earlier. It flowed around her in flimsy, sheer pieces of light blue fabric. The floral hem licked the cold, black stone of their son's room. Hermione had pulled her hair back sometime during the evening, opting to have her hair up and not in the way. Draco ran his hands up and down her sides, grabbing at the thin dress at random places.

"Draco, please stop." She insisted sternly.

"How much longer are you going to make me wait?"

Hermione struggled to pull out of his unbreakable hold. As soon as he let her, she turned and wrapped her arms around his torso and the same gestured was returned. They stood there, enjoying the warmth of each other. An entire month without it truly had taken a horrible toll on all of them.

No more, she promised herself silently. I won't leave them ever again.

"I missed you so much, Hermione." An insinuation of was to transpire was laced elegantly through his words. "So much that it hurts. Let me love you, please. Allow me to show you how much- "

Hermione stopped him right then, taking his hand in hers as she placed it over her stomach. She waited. Oh, wait a long, painful wait it was!

 _I'm pregnant_ , she told him through a transmitted though of magic. _I didn't know until- until last week. I'm so sorry…_

Draco was beyond himself. Shocked, he fell to his knees and placed both his hands on her stomach, not caring about his wife's protests as he slowly lifted her gown above her flat stomach. All evening she had acted strange, nonchalant. He didn't notice it at all because she always put up a front while she was in his company. How could he have been so blind? Not that the thought of her being pregnant would have ever crossed his mind, though. A tempting thought, but would never have had the chance to invade his thoughts.

He leaned in, unsure of himself as a father of one precious little boy. All he could think about at that moment was Hermione and all the horrific possibilities that was sure to arise the further her pregnancy progressed. Would she survive? Would both his wife and unborn child live? Gods, what a terrible thought to think after his wife just told him that she was pregnant!

"I want to keep her."

"Her?"

She smiled weakly through a fresh onslaught of tears. "Mother's intuition. It _has_ to be a girl."

"How can you be so sure. You just found out." Draco didn't look up, keeping his gaze leveled with the little bump that was his wife's stomach. Why he couldn't express the swelling joy and beatitude was just another piece of the mystery. How could he even begin to thank her, despite the uncertainty that arose upon hearing the news? Mothers were truly the most wondrous creature in the world. "Hermione, I- "

"I want to keep her." She blurted before he had the chance to speak. "I know you disapprove of it, Draco. A fool could figure that out. I know of the dangers that I'll face, but I can't bring myself to let her go!"

"Why would you even- "he accused before stopping himself.

"Please," she began inconsolably," please don't tell me to get rid of her, Draco. I can't- I won't- "She choked on her words, bringing her hands to her face to conceal her sadness.

Why on earth would she even think that he'd demand her to terminate their child? He may not approve of the pregnancy because of his own selfish need to ensure that she didn't stumble into pain and illness, but he would never ask that of her. She should be ashamed to think such a vile thought. Determined to prove to her that he was ready, that he was willing to set aside his execrable thoughts, his fears, and dread, he thumbed the faint, healed line of her stomach before planting a soft kiss upon it. A trail of small, soft kissed marched up in a deliberately slow line up her stomach to her belly button. She giggled rapturously at his delicate ministrations of love and approval before her eyes grew sad.

"How far along?"

"A little over a month."

He quickly thought back to the week before she had to leave for her trip. They made love every night leading up to the day she had to leave. Scorpius had made it his priority to spend every waking moment during the day devoted solely to her, while Draco spent countless hours worshipping her during the night. If his calculations added up right, their second child was conceived the night before her trip, bringing her just a little over a month old, just as Hermione stated.

Draco felt his resolve snap. He didn't care that he was crying like some weakling, expressing what once was a foul emotion his Father couldn't tolerate in front of another. He was so unbelievably happy.

"I already love her, Hermione." Draco murmured against her skin, rubbing his cheek against the soft flesh of her subtlety swollen stomach. "I- I know this will be difficult. But, by the Gods I want to try! I'll try to vanquish my fears, but I can't promise you that they'll be gone by tomorrow morning. You have to forgive me for that. I need to time to collect and prepare myself. Do you think you can do that for me, love?"

She nodded frantically, a mixture of utter happiness and contentment. No words could express just how thankful that the vendetta between them had finally be settled. Not only an agreement between them, but a mutual understanding. Hermione would not be left desolate and alone because she knew Draco would not stand for that, for her or anyone else that mattered to him. His ambivalent attitude towards the notion of conceiving another child had not been taken the exact way that she hoped. In retrospect, he had taken the idea in exactly the opposite way. Now, she could find happiness knowing that her husband's usual tendentious standing had been assuage with the promise of staying strong and seeing the entire thing through.

"Thank you," she told him weakly, pressing her swollen, wet lips to his. Her gratitude was ineffable and could not be expressed by mere, simple words. Actions, in her opinion, could do that and go beyond words. It was the physical manifestation of their love that provided the most comforting and lasting sentiment. "We're going to have a baby!" She bruited joyfully.

"A baby girl," Draco murmured hopefully. "When can we see the Healers? I want to know as soon as possible."

"Soon. Very soon."

"Tomorrow." He demanded. "Should we wake up Scorpius? He'll want to know."

"Tomorrow." She promised once more. "Tonight, I just want to love you."

Draco instantly pulled himself up, threaded her hair through his fingers as he pulled her into a passionate kiss. A bestial growl erupted from his chest. Picking her up, Draco mentally turned down the lights as he carried his pregnant wife out of their son's room, down the hall and into their chambers. There, he kicked open the door and willed the lights to dimmer to an alluring hue. Draco tentatively stepped over the threshold, allowing the door of their marital room to close soundlessly behind him. Hermione's breath hitched expectantly as her feet made swift contact with the floor as she wrapped her arms around her husband's neck pleadingly.

They slowly stumbled backwards, falling onto their neatly made bed. The dark green duvet and maroon pillows contrasted devastatingly well with her light blue gown. Draco looked longingly at his witch; her long hair was fanned out around her head, her lips swollen from snogging, her rosy cheeks stained by her tears of happiness and sadness. He bent down and kissed her wet cheek with tenderness, vanquishing any bad thoughts that he knew were sneaking their way into her brilliant mind.

"You're so beautiful." He groaned, moving the hem of her gown inch by inch up her milky thighs. "You have no idea how hard it's been. Not being able to hold you, to kiss your luscious lips. Do you want to know a secret?" He inquired with a playful grin. Draco bent down and captured her lips in a bruising, plundering kiss. "I thought about you every single night, my love. Every night. Did you think of me?"

She nodded, "Of course." She moaned, his hands moving slowly upwards underneath her light gown. She gasped when his fingers made contact with her hips at last. "Unfortunately, I didn't have the time to indulge in such pleasures. Work came first, right after making sure my boys were alright. I didn't have time to… to…" She blushed wildly.

"Are you saying," his fingers dancing enticingly and encouragingly up her smooth legs," that you haven't found pleasure since our last coupling?"

"N-no."

"I believe," he slithered up her body, his lips ghosting above every inch of her exposed skin as he came face to face with his wife," we'll have to rectify that, won't we?" His lips descended onto hers as to steal a quick kiss. Removing himself from her briefly, he sat up, eying his licentious wife. Her breast heaved with desperate, anxious pants. Her lips were parted; her small, pink tongue darted out to lick them sensually. Patiently, she waited for him to touch her.

Encapsulated by faint light of the golden light of their bedroom, Draco bent down and made sweet, slow love to his wife. As their bodies molded together and connected, he allowed all his worries to vaporize in the hot, steamy coupling of their love. With each kiss, loving caress, plunge, sweet whisperings of words, he threw one more worry and anguished thought out the window. Dawn approached deliberately slow, as to allow them the full magnitude of time to fully enjoy each other's embrace. And, when morning finally came, Draco continued to bestow the undying love he felt for his wife, and for the years of happiness she gave him while expressing the enduring love and unyielding gratitude he felt for their son and the daughter she was going to give him.

Hours later, before their little one awoke from his long slumber, he found himself looking at his greatly satisfied wife as she continued to sleep blissfully in his arms. He reached out, running his hands up and down her arms. He didn't hesitate this time as he reached out and placed his hand on her stomach, eying his wife carefully. He leaned in and placed a chaste kiss upon her lips.

"Thank you," he whispered to the woman of his children and the provider of life. "Thank you for everything you've done for me. For Scorpius, and for our daughter." He smiled at the word. They weren't quite sure, but the idea of him having a little girl was a pleasant notion. "I love you _so_ much and I can't even _begin_ to express the joy of knowing that you're giving me another child. "He smoothed his hand over her stomach and she gave a sigh of content. A small smile tugged on the corners of her lips just as she shifted ever so slightly in his arms.

Draco looked down at the small bump with a smile of his own. He bent down, planted a kiss to her stomach, before pulling himself back up and drifting back to sleep. He dreamt of a garden, two darling little buds, and a loving maiden of spring. With a smile, he joined his family in eternal bliss.

~Fin~

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 _A/N: I had initially wanted Draco to be completely against having another child because Hermione's first pregnancy was quite difficult. It this had be one of the universes, I would say it would still have been the same, except Draco had switched sides at some point, as stated in the first scene. So, it's a bit AU._

 _I wanted to portray Hermione as a strong, resilient woman in this. She was determined to have another child despite how difficult the first one was. Draco, as far as well all know, will slowly get used to the idea of her bearing him another child. Like he said, the fear will not go away before morning. It will take time._

 _With that said, thank you for reading!_


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